Within These Walls
by Amanda Hawthorn
Summary: Looking around the wreck of the room that was to be their bedroom for the night, she was instantly reminded of the run down building that her little sister's body had been found in when she had died. spoilers for 6x10


**Disclaimer: I don't own Burn Notice unfortunately**

**A/N: Thank you to everyone for all of the reviews, PM's, favourite story and author adds for all of my other stories. I really do appreciate all of you who take the time to read my stories.**

**Thank you to Purdy's Pal and JediSkysinger for reading through this for me. As always thank you for your support and friendship.**

**This is based on spoilers for 6x10**

_**Looking around the wreck of the room that was to be their bedroom for the night, she was instantly reminded of the run down building that her little sister's body had been found in when she had died. That place had been a condemned building too and it was no place for the living let alone the dead…her baby sister shouldn't have died, just like Nate shouldn't have either…**_

Within These Walls

Fiona knew she was being unreasonable when she regarded the CIA man icily before she jumped down from the bench that she'd been sitting on. She also knew that Brady Pressman didn't deserve her hostility but she just couldn't seem to stop her anger boiling over this time. Bidding Michael goodnight she ignored everyone else and sauntered off towards the other end of the building and towards the room where they would be sleeping for the night.

Since her release from prison she just longed for some time to catch her breath, to have some quiet moments with the man she loved…but it wasn't meant to be. It wasn't Michael's fault… it wasn't _anyone's_ fault. She'd known what she was getting into before she'd jumped into this whole lifestyle feet first. She wanted to be with Michael and she realised a long time ago that being with him included everything else that came with him, and it had taken a while for her to finally accept that.

She hated the CIA but in the end they had been the ones to give her back the freedom to be with Michael again. She knew wherever he went that she would follow because how could she not? And it wasn't just Michael; it was the family they had built around themselves. Sam, Jesse, Madeline…Nate…_Nate_…just the thought of his lifeless body lying in that coffin was enough to bring a sheen of tears to her eyes and she cursed herself for lowering her guard.

Nate's death had hit them all, his loss sending shockwaves throughout their makeshift family. Michael's relationship with his mother had deteriorated and that in turn had broken her too. She loved Madeline but her loyalty would always be with Michael, and nothing, not even the woman she regarded as her surrogate mother would change that.

Looking around the wreck of the room that was to be their bedroom for the night, she was instantly reminded of the run down building that her little sister's body had been found in when she had died. That place had been a condemned building too and it was no place for the living let alone the dead…her baby sister shouldn't have died, just like Nate shouldn't have either…

Moving towards the rickety old bed she could already feel the swell of tension creeping around her and she tried so hard to quash it but it wouldn't go away. Sitting down she swallowed at the lump in her throat but her eyes continued to fill with burning tears and no matter how many times she blinked them away, another wave followed the first until she couldn't hold them back any longer.

"_Dammit,"_ she whispered angrily as she swiped at her eyes. "Get a grip Glenanne…"

She hadn't allowed herself to cry in front of Michael because he needed her to be strong. She had taken it upon herself to be the one who didn't break so that Michael could grieve, even though so far he'd been holding himself in check and he hadn't allowed himself to break, not once. She knew how it felt to lose a sibling and she knew how much it hurt when there was no sense to it at all. Nate had died, killed by a man who hadn't cared what wounds he'd opened when he had pulled that trigger, just as her sister's killer hadn't either.

Tears scorched her eyes but she held her breath and listened for any signs that Michael was approaching before she bit her lip to stop a sob from escaping. He didn't need this from her, not when he had so much on his mind already. The last thing he needed was to see her upset, she knew how much he hated to see her cry and he always blamed himself for her tears, even when he shouldn't. There was no way she was going to pile this on him too.

So far she had managed to hide her own grief from him and cried her tears in private where he couldn't see or hear her. She swallowed her pain and buried it so far down that even Sam accused her of not caring about the youngest Westen's death. His words had hurt, cutting deeply but she hadn't taken his bate. She knew all he wanted was an argument to clear the air around them but she wouldn't bite…instead she took a long shower and cried so hard until she didn't have any more tears left to cry.

Nate's face merged with Claire's to cause the welling tears to spill over onto her cheeks. Gasping in a breath she reached behind her to pull one of the pillows and pressed it against her face to muffle the sobs. Her tears soaked into the silken material and for once she didn't care who had possibly laid their head on it before her. She needed to get this out of her system before Michael came in here but to her dismay they just wouldn't stop.

She could hear the men in the other room bid each other goodnight and panic tore right through her. Lifting her head she pressed her palms against her eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm herself before she lay down onto the bed and turned on her side to face away from the door. Closing her eyes the tears leaked out anyway spilling onto the already damp pillow but she held her breath and willed her body to stop shaking when she heard Michael walk into the room.

The bed dipped behind her and she felt the familiar warmth when he gravitated towards her to press his body flush with hers. His presence caused her heart to surge and she reached behind to bring his arm around her front and slipped her fingers in between his. She loved him and this, having him beside her was all she had ever wanted.

"Fi…"

Fiona heard his soft voice in her ear followed by his lips when he kissed her neck. Clamping her eyes closed she squeezed his fingers and brought their joined hands up to bury them beneath her chin. Almost instantly he stilled and she heard the hitch in his breathing, the sound causing her eyes to spring open. She realised suddenly that by trying to hide from him she'd only alerted him that something was wrong. Biting her lip she tried to lay still but then she felt him shift behind her as he lifted up onto his elbow.

"Hey…" his soft voice caused her eyes to flood, and she knew there was no way she could hide it this time.

Taking a shaky breath she kissed his fingers and swallowed hard against the lump in her throat before she slowly shifted onto her back. She could see the unquestionable love in his gaze and the ebb of guilt that lingered there. His own eyes were bright and she could see that he was struggling to remain in control and once again she berated herself for being so weak.

"I'm…sorry…" her voice caught on a sob as she tried to get the words out, but when she couldn't she turned her head away from him. "I never…wanted you to…see me like…this…"

"Fi…" he whispered her name again as he lowered his head to kiss her cheek before he laid back down beside her and turned her on her side to face him. "You don't have to hide this from me…"

"I'm supposed…to be supporting you," she told him brokenly, shuffling closer when he tugged her towards him. "I'm…sorry…I think everything…just…caught up…"

"Shhh…it's okay."

"It's…not," she shook her head hopelessly, her sobs slowing to hiccups. "I'm…sorry…"

"You've supported me more times than I can count," he told her on a whisper, his own voice breaking slightly. "_You_ get me through every day, Fi…only you…"

"I don't know…why I'm crying about…it now…" she sniffed. "I can't…change it…"

"Fi?"

"It's…my fault," her words caught on a sob and she closed her eyes when she buried her face into his chest. "She's dead because of me..."

"What?" he asked in confusion. "Who?"

Taking a breath she lifted her head and laid her wet cheek against his chest, the last remains of her sorrow seeping into his shirt. "Claire…"

Michael glanced down at her and tried to see her eyes but she wouldn't lift her head. She hardly ever spoke about her sister, but he knew she thought of her all the time especially when she drifted off into space, but she had always been so strong. Tracing his fingertips over her arms he thought she had drifted off to sleep, so when her voice came again she caught him off guard.

"She was mad at me… " she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I can't take back what I said to her…ever…"

Michael tugged her closer and threaded his fingers through her long hair. Her words struck a chord within him, burning an ache of guilt right through his heart. He'd said things to Nate on his final day too, words that haunted his dreams every single night. The woman he loved was shaking against him and he could feel the wall of emotion that he'd been hiding behind slowly beginning to crumble away as his own grief welled in his eyes.

Since Nate's death he hadn't had any time to process. He felt his brother's loss every single day but he'd managed to push those feelings to the back of his mind, focussing instead on finding the man who'd killed him. He'd never let anyone see his sorrow; he'd never trusted anyone enough before. Yes he'd been brought to tears but managed to hold them back, triumphing in banishing his grief until a later time. The only person to ever see him cry, really cry was the beautiful woman lying in his arms and he suddenly realised that they couldn't keep going on like this.

Closing his eyes he felt the first tear topple over onto his cheek and hurriedly wiped it away before it could fall. He had learned from an early age that crying never solved anything. All it did was show others that you could be hurt, and so far he hadn't allowed those tears to overtake him…but sometimes he came so close to breaking down.

Feeling his eyes fill he opened them and shifted his gaze to the ceiling and tried to concentrate on the peeling paint, anything to keep the sorrow from pouring out of him. Fiona tightened her hold on him and she constantly amazed him with her bravery. She had been through so much and he'd broken her heart more than once, but still she was here, by his side…loving him even when he knew that sometimes he didn't deserve it.

Neither of them spoke and he was grateful to her for not making him deal with this. She had always known him better than anyone, and it was her love for him that had always kept him anchored because without her he knew he would be lost. Her breath hitched slightly and her hand flexed on his stomach, her fingers tracing the material of his white shirt. Moving his arm downwards he covered her fingers, clasping her hand tightly in his, taking courage from her touch.

"I hurt Nate, too…" he choked out, his words causing her to lift her head to look up at him. His eyes suddenly began to water but he desperately tried to blink them away, he couldn't dwell on his grief right now, not when they were so close to finding his brother's killer... but his heart wasn't listening to his reasoning this time. "I said things to him…I…"

Fiona could hear him stumbling and she shifted her body so that she could pull his head onto her chest. She had been expecting him to break down for weeks but whenever he showed any hint of letting go he did everything to stop the grief from pouring out of him.

"He loved you," she whispered softly, her own voice trembling as she spoke. "He knew you didn't mean any of it."

"You didn't see his face—"

"He _loved_ you…" she told him, her eyes welling once more. "He knew you loved him too…and you didn't let him die alone…you were with him at the end…" tears leaked from her eyes when he finally shook against her and all she could do was hold on tight. She peppered kisses into his hair, holding him tighter every time his chest heaved and a small sob muffled against her. He muttered something before wrapping his arms around her like she was his lifeline and she knew that she was exactly that, because he was hers too.

Lowering her head she nuzzled her lips into his hair whispering how much she loved him with every single touch, over and over until after what seemed like hours he stilled in her arms...

"My mom hates me…"

His hoarse voice broke her heart and she closed her eyes against the all too familiar words that she had spoken too, so long ago. Her mother had turned her back on her too after Claire's death and despite everyone's reassurance that she just needed time; Fiona hadn't stayed around after her mother had yelled that she would never forgive her. How could she have stayed to try and make things right when she had never forgiven herself? Kissing him again she swallowed the ache in her own heart and tried to think of anything she could say to make him understand.

"She doesn't hate you," she told him in a whisper. "She's angry…"

Shaking his head against her she heard him take in a shuddered breath before he slipped his hand beneath her shirt, seeking the warmth of her skin. She knew his so well; whenever he had a nightmare he sought comfort by touching her, and she had never denied him, ever.

"I love you, Michael," she whispered softly when he grew still in her arms, his fingers growing slack on her stomach. Closing her eyes she relished the heaviness of his head over her heart and she knew she would never grow tired of this. Taking a breath she closed her eyes and settled back against the lumpy pillows, taking him with her as she held him tight. When this was all over she would make a point of showing him that no matter where they were she didn't care any more just as long as they were together.

"Thank you for not giving up on me," he whispered softly, his voice startling her in the darkness. "I…love you..."

Fiona smiled tearfully and lifted her hand to his head, holding him against her as she placed a soft kiss onto his temple.

"I know," she whispered, her breath fanning his hair. "Sleep now, okay…just…sleep…"

Not expecting a reply she closed her eyes, knowing that sleep wouldn't come easy for either of them tonight, so she held onto him, revelling in the warmth of his body against hers…they would get through this…

000

Fiona's eyes snapped open and she looked around her as she tried to remember where she was. Looking over the room her eyes followed the cracks on the walls, the morning light making them look all the more jagged.

Breathing in deeply she turned her head to gaze upon the man who was sleeping beside her, all traces of sorrow gone. He was on his back now, his arms folded across his chest with a gun resting in his hand, and she realised that she must have succumbed to sleep before he did last night.

Lifting her arm she looked down at her watch and saw that it was only five-thirty in the morning, but she didn't want to go back to sleep, not now…all she wanted to do was go home. Her eyes were sore and her throat was raw but she did feel strangely lighter; she just hoped that Michael felt some of that lightness too.

Turning onto her side she watched him sleeping, taking comfort in the rise and fall of his chest. He hadn't been getting much sleep back at the loft, but then neither had she….not since she'd been released from prison anyway. She hadn't slept much there either, always napping with one eye open and even having Michael sleeping by her side hadn't quashed the ghosts that still haunted her from her incarceration.

Rolling onto her back she resisted the urge to touch the sleeping man beside her. He was finally getting some rest and she didn't want to disturb him by her restlessness so she shuffled to the very edge of the mattress and sat up on the side of the bed. Glancing back at the man she loved she watched him for a few more moments before she looked towards the window and its beckoning light.

Standing up she walked towards the glass panel and gazed out up into the hazy sky. Sighing heavily she lifted her face up into the sunlight taking in its warmth and smiled when she took in the colour of the sky, the image transporting her to the Irish shores. Maybe one day they would get to see those shores again…she had hope that it _could_ happen…because right now hope was all any of them really had…

The End


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